Of Churches

I attended two churches this weekend - two very different churches.

The first is a typical conservative denominational one. Large mostly-empty cathedral-type building, hymns, "reverent" silence, un-miked-up piano (the organ broke years ago, and funds are lacking to replace it. Thank goodness), Afrikaans sermon, same style and order of service as every other week, and you'd better leave before they lock you in the church after the service is done. (Dad missed his home church in Australia)

The second is a non-denominational cell-based church. Small room, bring out more chairs because the congregation just doubled thanks to a baby dedication, band, short and relevant sermon, bits added as needed to the service, freedom to applaud at the good stuff, and coffee & cake afterwards. (Dad had been singing one of the contemporary songs chosen just that morning - it felt like home)

No prizes as to which one I enjoyed more.

My dad being my dad, and me being me, we had to get into a discussion about the vision we both have for the former church, where I'm still officially a member. I've blogged about my ideal church a few weeks back. It's an ideal that won't happen easily, and while sitting through the Afrikaans sermon (a background noise similar to the F1 Grand Prix, international golf tournaments or 5-day cricket on TV - very "lulling"!), I wondered if they'd let me try to get a late-afternoon contemporary meditative gathering going.

You see, late afternoon doesn't clash with any other meetings, so would not be "competition". As not an official service, it wouldn't have to be regulated by the all-powerful Church Board. All I basically request is a space to meet, and freedom for people to experiment with what is done.

Which I mentioned to dad.

Unfortunately we had lunch at the assistant head elder's (AHE) house, right after service #1. And dad, being dad, started a 4-hour discussion, introduced by mentioning my idea - but branching off into Being church and all sorts of other things. Even more unfortunately, although the AHE is my age, he's the opposite end of the conservative scale to me, and I really should have warned dad first! :)

He grasped the basic concept of living our faith and that it impacts worship, but doesn't see the need for a space and place for those who do not fit into any of the three ultra-conservative models available here. That there are talents going unused because drums and electric guitars are frowned upon (well, a bit more than frowned upon!). And that not being able to express an experiential, creative worship intead of a logical head-ruled one is leaving a lot of (postmodern, creative and other) folk out in the cold.

I honestly think dad was fighting a bit of a losing battle. And at times I felt like crying. The needs and views of myself and others simply don't feature on their radars. They don't have a mindset that can grasp something bigger, more life-encompassing than what they are already doing.

Too many people simply endure their weekly church attendance duty. I've had my ear bent by quite a few of them.

Granted, there is change. I saw many young folk in the service, and some have just returned from a year with a travelling youth group - which could bring a breath of fresh air to goings-on. The head elder is doing much to find ways of injecting life back into the church, and has been touring those who longer attend (including me).

And yet there is still not a space for something out-of-the-ordinary. Not just a different form of worship, but a whole different living-out of faith. An acceptance of the "weird" AND the "wonderful" as children of God, brothers and sisters - no need to first be/dress/act perfect. There is no space to relate to God in a way other than the all-important Service. And there is no real service to the community outside of said "Service".

But there is also hope. There are a number of new folk around who can help initiate something great. If they refuse us use of the building, I DO posess an empty garage.... :) And personally I'm starting to feel I'm almost at the point where my sitting/waiting is over - time to get up off the bench at the side of the road to continue on the journey.

It's strange. I've felt from many that 2006 will be a year of positive change. People are optimistic across beliefs (or lack thereof), continents, lifestyles. All anticipating a good year. It's like we've taken a deep breath and woken up to a bright new day.

A few days ago I had an email from the elderly man working to get us to Australia, through his important contacts there. He asked if I were still trying, and I had to reply that perhaps God wants me (and my visions) here. Perhaps all these closed Australian doors will mean I get to open a few right at home. I've been given a vision, a heart that can see possibilities.

Maybe this year I will be asked to turn those visions into reality. Maybe, just maybe, it's time.